Last will
by Werbena
Summary: Avengers have some problems after their last mission and Tony is exaggerating, just like he loves to


**A/N: Characters mentioned below are definitely not mine. The plot, however, is my own idea. Story written for pure joy of writing. Not making money from it. **

'… and for Steven Rogers, also known to some as Capsicle or Captain America, I leave a beautifully illustrated copy of Kamasutra with my personal comments…'

'Tony, what in the name of reason do you think you're doing?'

'Changing my last will. JARVIS was the only one willing to help and actually listen to me.'

'For the last time, you're not dying! It's just a bad case of flu.'

'How do you know? You're not a doctor but my wife. Or am I just hallucinating before finally saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world?'

'JARVIS.'

'Yes, Mrs. Stark?'

'Give Mr. Stark doctor's diagnosis and orders. Again.'

'Mr. Stark is probably suffering from an illness with high resemblance of the flu. He is supposed to stay in bed, drink a lot of fluids and keep track of his temperature changes. According to professional medical opinion, Mr. Stark is going to feel better tomorrow evening at the latest. Next doctor's appointment is scheduled in two days and…'

'Yep, definitely hallucinating. Are you my wife in this hallucination or still my faithful assistant?'

'Your wife, Tony. Till death do us part.'

'Which in my present condition can be rather sooner than later.'

'Not funny.'

'JARVIS has all my guidelines concerning funeral, burial and after party, but I wanted to tell you personally to make sure that you have enough of me for having beautiful children even when I'm gone.'

'Yes, Tony, you are hallucinating. You've made your special "deposit" few years ago and it's more than enough for dozen babies.'

'There. I can die peacefully.'

'In your dreams. Next time you go fight these snow thingies I'm making you listen to Loki's suggestions about security measures even if it means tying you to a chair. For the record, he is the only one healthy enough to actually do some helping instead of taking part in this high school drama club rehearsals.'

'Who else is dying?'

'Nobody. Thor claimed he is fine but he's been sleeping since your return. Loki says it's perfectly normal and at least we have one person less to make demands and making this situation into unofficial drama queen pageant.'

'I knew it. You're a hallucination. My beloved Pepper would never, ever allowed anyone else but me to enter such competition. I should be crowned already, my rivals are maybe drama countesses and not even close to royalty.'

'Tony, try to take an example of Thor and sleep.'

'I will, but first I have some requests. Like when a guy is about to die and…'

'One more lame death joke and I'm not coming back before morning.'

'So beautiful but so ruthless… Anyways. Thor's sleeping. What about the rest?'

'Bruce is curling up in his bed too, apparently Hulk is not totally immune to everything.'

'Or this mysterious illness thingy is more vicious and therefore… Right, shutting up. Continue, my dear.'

'Natasha almost collapsed on the floor while cooking chicken soup for Clint. We tucked them in and fed with said soup. By the way, I have to get the recipe from Romanoff.'

'Where's my share? Am I to be send to bed without dinner?'

'You smelled it and refused trying even one table spoon.'

'Not true. Wait. THAT was it? The Russian chicken soup from hell? No wonder Hawk smiles once a year. If you have ever loved me – don't take the recipe. And tell Loki to dispose of this biohazard weapon of mass destruction. The sooner the better and he should put an effort not to contaminate our planet. And the kitchen sink.'

'It is said to work wonders, but suit yourself. Anything else?'

'Yes. Capsicle.'

'Steve at the beginning refused going to bed, feeling the responsible leader and all, but we convinced him we'll manage. There are three very capable women in this Tower, not to mention Loki's been a big help.'

'I must be going postal. That's the only possible explanation. I can't be jealous of an Asgardian who is a) not your type, b) I pray to every possible deity not interested, c) already involved with someone and not looking for a companion for a little threesome behind my sick, sick back…'

'Tony, go to sleep. You're babbling and it's more tiring than funny. We still have few things to do.'

'JARVIS, keep a close eye on the situation. I want a full report first thing in the morning. Don't hesitate to wake me up if you find any evidence of…'

'Getting delirious, I see.'

'Look who's talking. I don't know how, but I'm sure you're to blame, Frosty.'

'Very well, next time I distinctly tell you all to do something utterly insane and maybe you will do yourselves a favour, do exactly opposite and act as responsible adults. I had other plans for this evening, Stark, and not only they've been sabotaged by your lack of common sense but also I have a horrid choice to make. Either personally tend to Rogers or allow my sweet Darcy to get exposed to his physique. It might give me a migraine.'

'Jolly good. After hearing that I can try to sleep. And Pepper? You're the best. Even if I can't show it to you right now.'

'Goodnight, Tony.'

'Try not to bother anybody during the night.'

'I still blame you, so guess whose name would be the first on my to – wake – up list.'

'Sleep, mortal.'

'JARVIS, you're up?'

'For you, Sir – always.'

'Where were we? Ah, the Kamasutra for Rogers. For Darcy Lewis, soon to be Mrs. Frosty, a bed warmer. Huge one, do the search later. For Barton – my collection of comic books. And check if I have each and every volume with Green Arrow. I think he will be the only one to truly appreciate and understand my gift. For Romanoff – my Mother's cookbook. There is always hope she will learn to prepare meals instead of deadly poisons. For Banner access codes to my science files, including these stocked on my private server. And for our Asgardian allies…'

'Tony, you've promised!'

'Can't stand even few minutes without me? Hurrah for the never ending charm of vulnerable hero fighting with germs.'

'I hoped you were mumbling in your sleep. Silly me.'

'How about I strike a deal with you.'

'I'm all ears, Mr. Stark.'

'I will really put all my efforts to falling asleep like a good little superhero that I am and tomorrow morning my beautiful wife will give me a sponge bath. And nobody disturbs us, no porridge for Capsicle, no Poptarts for Thor, no warm milk for Banner. And no whatever Hawkeye and his Missus have for breakfast. Just you, me and a nice pink sponge. Do we have a deal?'

'Yes. Provided you won't change your mind in the morning.'

'About this little treat? Never.'


End file.
